What is Left Behind
by Bean02
Summary: When Eomer is called away to war in Gondor, he leaves the country in the hands of his expecting wife, Lothiriel. Will Lothiriel be able to hold Rohan together? Will Eomer return to Rohan, Lothiriel, and their soon to come child? Read and find out!
1. Default Chapter

Note: Yes, I have two Eomer/Lothiriel stories that happened before this... and yes, I think you can follow this story without reading them! However, I have to use this story to advertise my other ones and say: Go read Those We Love and Dust in the Wind! Go! Hehe.. okay yeah... I'm done. Here's the story!  
  
What Is Left Behind  
  
Chapter One  
  
Lothiriel stood looking out over Edoras and Rohan as she sun rose over the mountains, painting the world in brilliant colors, sparkling off the morning dew that settled on the grass, winking at her, as if to say good morning. The Queen watched the wind rolling across the tall grass in the fields surrounding the city and smiled to herself. On days like today the grasses and the sparkling dew reminded her of the Sea. Although Lothiriel would not leave her husband and Rohan for anything, she still missed the sound of the waves at Dol Amroth waking her in the morning. She sighed softly, closing her eyes as the wind raced past her, if she tried very hard she could almost hear the gulls crying and the waves pounding on the shore.  
  
The door to the Golden Hall opened and footsteps approached, they seemed to hesitate as they watched her. Lothiriel smiled as she recognized those footsteps, and held out a hand without the need to look. She had heard those steps approaching many times these past few years.  
  
Her hand was accepting and familiar lips brushed her check. She opened her eyes and turned to greet her husband, who had appeared at her side. "Good morning, husband." She said, brushing her hair out of her eyes as it was tossed in the wind.  
  
"Good morning." He returned, smiling warmly. "How did you know it was I approaching?" He asked, curiously, placing a protective hand around her waist.  
  
She gave him a knowing smile. "I always know, Eomer. It's the sound of your steps, I've grown accustom to them. And of course, the there is the feeling I get when you stare at me." She teased.  
  
He laughed, "Forgive me, but when I woke this morning my wife seemed to be missing from our bed. What called you away so early?"  
  
Lothiriel sighed happily, leaning against her husband, it was early and the people of Edoras were just beginning to wake to start their day. "The sun I suppose."  
  
Eomer considered her for a moment, studying her, trying to determine if something was wrong. "How are you feeling this morning?"  
  
"Well." She replied. "As I believe is the child." She knew that was what he was hinting at. Ever since she had found herself with-child again the royal couple had felt as if they were walking on eggshells. They had lost their first son, and the grief nearly drove Lothiriel mad. Now Eomer was ever her shadow, watching, worrying that something may harm her, or send her back to those terrible days when she was out of her mind.  
  
Eomer nodded, "That is good. And where is Felarof this fine morning? Dining on my best boots I suppose." He glanced around with a grin, knowing that the small golden dog was never far behind Lothiriel, when he was not causing trouble that is.  
  
Lothiriel gave a small nod to the kitchens where a small group of young children were playing. The little dog was racing around them, trying to catch their ball. Eomer recognized the children as the daughter and sons of their cook, Sirwyn. He vaguely remembered being introduced to them once, Lothiriel probably had insisted. She had a way of learning everyone in the royal household's name, as well as that of their children, spouses, and extended families. "He loves children."  
  
"Well, have him wait a few years. He'll have plenty of our own to play with." Eomer said, placing a hand on where the child was growing within her protectively.  
  
She turned, raising her eyes to meet his for a moment. "Eomer..."  
  
Suddenly, the stillness of the morning was broken as a rider approaching the city caught her attention. He was clearly exhausted, and was clothed in the White Tree of Gondor. "Eomer." She caught her husband's attention and nodded towards the rider.  
  
Eomer turned, his eyes quickly finding him. "A messenger." He said quietly.  
  
"And I fear he may not bring good tidings." Lothiriel replied. "He looks as if he has ridden without rest."  
  
"For several days." Eomer finished her thought, moving to get a better look. He sighed heavily, "Well, I suppose we ought to go inside. I'll have them bring him directly to me."  
  
Lothiriel nodded, straightening her skirts, "And I will have some food brought. I imagine the poor man shall be famish." She gave Eomer an accusing look. "And I know you men never seem to manage to take care of yourselves."  
  
Eomer laughed, "I suppose that is why I have you, my Lady." He said, giving her a mock bow, happy to see she was in a cheerful mood again. Her mood seemed to change often these days, one moment she could be cheerfully joking, and the next she could be close to tears. He was getting better at sensing her moods, but it seemed no man could ever predict the emotions of a pregnant woman.  
  
Lothiriel attempted to look offended, but failed miserably. "Oh right then. Get inside so you can at least look somewhat dignified when the errand-rider is brought before you!" She ordered, attempting to herd Eomer inside.  
  
Laughing, Eomer allowed her to lead him into his own Hall, chuckling to himself, he gave instructions for the Gondorian to be escorted straight to him. Lothiriel, he imagined had gone to the kitchens to make sure some food was brought. Always the welcoming hostess, he mused to himself, settling down at the head of his Hall, awaiting the arrival of whatever news the messenger brought. Lothiriel soon reappeared, and took her place at his side, in her seat less grand, but ever present at his side, as a Queen should be. She smoothed her skirts, and brought some order to her hair in a quick, sweeping motion. With an appraising look at her husband, she leaned over and smoothed his hair as well, receiving a bemused, annoyed look from the King of the Mark.  
  
The doors opened, and the guard bowed to the King and Queen, allowing the Gondorian to come forward. The man looked even more exhausted up close, but he stiffened and approached the King, bowing formally, waiting to be addressed.  
  
"Welcome, Messenger of Gondor. What news from the South?" He asked.  
  
The man spoke as if he had rehearsed his message over and over again on his rider to Edoras. "Eomer King, long has your kin been a friend of Gondor, and I fear that friendship is needed once more. Osgiliath has been over run. Dark forces have once again gathered strength within their fortress of Minas Morgul and threaten our lands." He bowed once more, removing a black-feathered arrow, with the tip pointed red and presenting it to the King.  
  
Lothiriel let out a small gasp as her husband took the arrow, carefully into his hands. Eomer glanced at her, and their eyes both held the same knowing look. They both knew that only the under the gravest of circumstances would King Elessar send the Red Arrow. The situation must be desperate if he would send such a summons.  
  
"Surely they did not catch you unawares? Surely you must have had some idea what was massing in the East?" Eomer asked the man, his eyes moving from his wife, to the arrow and back again to the exhausted errand- rider.  
  
"My Lord, as soon as my King learned of their massing he gathered his forces to meet them. However, the enemy moved swiftly, striking before we were ready. The Swan-Lords of Dol Amroth sailed up the river with a small fleet, only to meet bitter defeat, as did our troops from Minas Tirith. The Swan-Prince himself was injured in the battle." He reported, in a dead sort of tone. The tone of a man who had faced utter defeat, as was now sick with it all.  
  
At this news Lothiriel's eyes widened, her face paled, and Eomer reached across to grip her hand, giving her strength. She spoke for the first time since the man's arrival, her voice shaking slightly with worry. "Prince Imrahil, was he badly wounded?"  
  
The man's eyes fell upon the fair Queen, and he gazed at her for a moment, then as if remember she was the daughter of Imrahil, his gaze softened. "Nay, my Lady. He is well cared for and they believe he will recover fully." He assured her, before returning his gaze to Eomer. "However, King of the Mark, the situation is desperate. To free the city my King needs the Riders of Rohan once more. Will you ride out to him and aid Gondor once more?"  
  
Eomer exchanged a look with Lothiriel once more. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her side as the child grew within her. However, the threat in Gondor, if left unchecked, may continue into his lands. He would have to face it sooner or later, and Gondor, not to mention Elessar was a friend. He would have to help them, whether he wanted to or not. Lothiriel met his gaze evenly, and at that moment he knew she understood. Dol Amroth was in her veins, and she wanted Gondor to be at peace. She knew that her husband would have to ride with his men, and despite the fear that she may lose him; her gaze was even, knowing, and met his with quiet strength.  
  
Eomer stood, and Lothiriel rose as well, at his side as if to support what he was about to say. "Send word for the Marshals of the Mark to gather their forces and make haste to the Great West Road, I shall meet them at the borders of Firien Wood in one weeks time with my men as well. From there, we make haste to Gondor and to War." He ordered to one of his own messengers, ever waiting for his orders. The man bowed and quickly went to ready his horse for the swift ride across Rohan.  
  
The Gondorian bowed low, relief spreading across his features, "Gondor thanks you, Lord of the Mark. I shall inform my King." He turned to go, but was stopped.  
  
Lothiriel's voice rang out across the Hall, firm yet gentle. "Wait errand-rider of Gondor. You have had not had a decent meal in days. Stay and rest a night in comfort before returning to your King." She said, nodding to where a servant had placed a meal for the man. "You will be no good to Elessar falling down from exhaustion and hunger."  
  
He looked as if he might protest, but Lothiriel raised a hand silencing him. "As Queen of the Mark I insist you rest here before you leave, and I know King Elessar would not appreciate one of his men refusing a royal order of Rohan."  
  
The man seemed to have his argument die before it left his lips, he bowed with a small smile, "Thank you, good Queen of the Mark." He said, turning to be cared for by waiting kitchen maids.  
  
With that taken care of Lothiriel quickly excused herself from her husband, who was conferring with his ministers, and made her way to the servants' halls, there was much to be done and it was best if the work started as soon as possible. If her husband and the Riders of Rohan were to go to war in Gondor, she would see to it they had plenty of supplies. It was the least she could do, left behind at Meduseld.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A/N- Welcome to round three of torturing Eomer and Lothiriel! Yay! Okay, so I wasn't actually going to post this until I finished the story... but Kat emailed me and I got excited that someone emailed me, so I figured I'd be nice and give you the first chapter! I'm going to be a good little girl and try to stay two chapters ahead at all times. Which is quite interesting considering these chapters are actually longer than what I usually do. In Those We Love I have like four chapters by now! Anyway! I figured since I actually have a plan this time I could go ahead and post rather than finish the whole story then post. Actually finishing the whole story would make more sense, because then I could go back and change things, but then again I did all my planning and replanning on my nice little story outline (which is multi-colored! Yay!) So I'm pretty sure I won't change anything unless someone shows me a HUGE plot hole.... in that case I will go back!  
  
Anyway! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please review as I really do read them and take things to heart and TRY to improve :-) And believe it or not.... they help! I mean, read my Legolas story and compare how I wrote two years ago to now! It's pretty amusing! I hope I've improved since then.... Anyway! My point is (oh yes, I have a point :-) Please review! I love reviews! And I love emails :-) And if you review, I will be more likely to give you results :-) Note, this entire chapter is posted because Kat sent me an email. Get the hint? I do actually read and listen to them and they inspire me! I know I should write for myself, and I do, but it's so much more fun to know people actually read this stuff!  
  
Oh yeah, I'm also beta reader shopping. Although I'm not entirely sure what a beta reader does... so if someone could let me know what a beta reader does exactly (I'm thinking they proofread.... which would be nice as I never catch my own little oops moments) or if they want the job... or both! Email me, review and tell me, IM me, whatever. Hey! You get to read the next chapter before everyone else (all two of you I'm sure) isn't that worth it? :-)  
  
Review! Review! Review! I'll send you lots of hobbit stew! 


	2. Chapter Two

Eomer moved through the Golden Hall attempting to walk quietly for two reasons. One, because it was rather late and he did not wish to disturb the silence around him, another was he did not wish for anyone to find him, particularly his advisors. He had spent most of the day with them and was beginning to feel the onset of a nasty headache starting. His advisors had a way of giving him that unfortunate malady every time they began speaking of politics. He had never had much interest in the subject, having grown up thinking he would spend the rest of his days as the Third Marshal of the Riddermark, and would obey the orders of a King rather than being the one giving those orders. He would admit he often used his wife as a shield from his advisors. Allowing her to handle diplomatic niceties when he could, or taking directions from the rather pointed looks she would give when he said something that could cause offence. Eomer was a good King to be sure, but he was no diplomat. He preferred to take action rather than go through an intricate ritual of diplomatic niceties. Lothiriel on the other hand, grew up in the Gondorian Court of Dol Amroth, which in Eomer's opinion, seemed to be a never-ending supply of diplomacy and protocol. Indeed he had often teased Lothiriel, saying in the Courts in Gondor you could not so much as sneeze without following the correct procedure before you could do so. Therefore, Lothiriel often found herself schooling her husband in polite, diplomatic behavior, even among the Rohirrim Court she had somehow managed to learn more of its customs and rituals than Eomer knew. Which was why he had come to the conclusion that Lothiriel should lead the Eorlings in his absence, it was a choice that made perfect sense to him, she was Queen after all, but as usual, at least one of his advisors disagreed. In the end, he had laid down the law. He was King, and his choice was final. Lothiriel would rule Rohan in Eomer's absence.   
  
Eomer sighed and rubbed his temple where his headache seemed to be starting. Lothiriel had not been with him today, so he had to deal with his advisors on his own, and with his decision to go to war in Gondor, there had been a never ending demand of minor matters that required his attention before he left. He had spent the better part of the day listening to them go on and on about matters he considered trivial. The past few days' had been spent preparing to leave, and now he was departing in the morning, having barely a moment alone with his wife. These were the days that he longed for the simpler life, one where he was not King and did not have the weight of his country on his shoulders.  
  
He carefully opened the door to the chamber he shared with his wife, quietly so he would not wake her. However, Lothiriel was not in bed nor even dressed for bed. She was sitting, sewing by candlelight, hurrying to finish her project. She looked up when Eomer came in. She smiled brightly, greeting her husband. "Eomer! I was just finishing!"  
  
  
He studied her quizzically, there was something odd in her manner, and he watched her hands moving quickly across the fabric. "Lothiriel..."  
  
  
"There!" She stood, smiling proudly and standing, shaking the fabric so Eomer could see all of it. "I had intended to present you with this for your birthday, but you are leaving tomorrow, and as we do not know when you will return, I wanted to give it to you now." She said, her words were rushed, as if she was struggling to hide her real thoughts behind her words.  
  
  
He looked at her present with a small smile. It was a beautiful cloak, dark green and richly embroidered with the white horse of Rohan. He looked from it to meet his wife's eyes. "It is a fine gift." He said softly. "Lothiriel..."  
  
  
"I am pleased you like it." She interrupted. "I had to finish sooner than expected, I barely managed." She chatted aimlessly.  
  
Eomer crossed the distance between them and caught her hand, pulling her close. "Lothiriel, stop." He instructed, placing a hand on her cheek. "You have something on your mind. That much is plain. Please, tell me."  
  
Lothiriel closed her eyes, tears seemed to cloud her vision, but she refused to allow them to fall. "I- I keep thinking of what would happen should the worse come to pass." She looked up at him with her tear filled grey eyes. "What if you do not return?" She whispered, her voice full of fear, fear that she had not allowed to surface until now.  
  
Eomer wrapped his arms around her, protectively, as if shielding her from the world, and rested his head on top of hers. "Oh Lothiriel." He whispered, kissing her forehead. "I will return and soon."  
  
She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze, "There is no oath you can give me that will make it certain, and you know it." She said, her voice shaking, but determined to stay in control she continued. "I keep worrying about you, and about our child." She said, resting a hand on her belly, which was beginning to show signs of the child within. "What if I lose you, or the child, or both? I fear for you Eomer, and in that fear, I worry for the child as well. I do not think I could bare losing another." She took a deep breath, calming herself. "I know that you must go, and I know I must wait for your return. But why is it so hard, Eomer?" She said, choking with sobs.  
  
"Lothiriel..." He held her tightly, feeling a hard knot forming in his throat, struggling not to weep as well. He swallowed hard. "I know there are no words of comfort I can give you, but I promise you, I will do everything in my power to return to your side." He kissed her tearstained cheek, and met her eyes. "And to our child." He said softly, wiping her soft cheek with his thumb.  
  
She took a shaking breath, regaining her composure. "And I shall remain strong for you, waiting faithfully for your return." She leaned against him, as if drawing strength from his presence. "I shall wait until the end of time, my King." She vowed.  
  
Eomer smiled sadly, leaning his head against hers once more. "I have hope, my Queen, that the dark days encompassing Gondor shall soon come to pass, and I will return home to you."  
  
She looked up, a small, brave smile playing at her lips. "And what do I have to hold you to this oath, my Lord?"  
  
He kissed her hand, "My word."  
  
She considered this a moment, then smiled slyly, "I do not believe that will be enough, my Lord. You Rohirrim are a wild people after all." She paused, as if pondering an important issue. "Swear upon your horse."  
  
He met her teasing gaze, and burst into laughter. "Upon my horse! You are a strange woman, Lothiriel, Queen of the Mark." He kissed her lightly. "Now, you should rest. It will be an early morning, and I intend to spend every moment of it in your shadow until I leave." He told her.  
  
She smiled, stepping away to change into her nightdress. "You are welcome to shadow my steps Eomer, whenever it should please you."  
  
"It would please me much, Lady Lothiriel." He said, watching her with a smile. "More than you shall know."  
  
Eomer slept little that night. He watched Lothiriel drift away to silent dreams. Whether they were for good of ill he would never know. He was content to watch her features relax and a peaceful look fall onto her. She slept so soundly when he was near. However, he knew the moment he stirred and rose in the morning, she would awaken. She often complained she could not sleep without him by her side. He wondered how well she would rest in the months to come. He wondered if he would return in time for the birth of the child, and if this child would survive. He quickly pushed that thought from his mind. Surely fate would not be so cruel as to take another little one from them. Surely, this one would live. Surely.  
  
  
The next morning, Lothiriel silently watched Eomer mount Firefoot as they stood before Meduseld. It was early, for first light had barely come as the men prepared to leave. She stepped forward, all her worries had been voiced the night before, and her eyes merely gave him strength as he leaned down for a final kiss. He cared not that he was in sight of half the city, and it might be viewed as 'inappropriate'. No one, however, saw any fault in the King's actions, and many smiled to themselves, happy to see such blatant love between their King and Queen.  
  
  
"Remember your oath Eomer." Lothiriel said softly, as she stepped back once more to allow them to leave.  
  
  
"Yes." He smiled, trying not to show how much leaving her grieved him. "Upon my horse." He said, giving Firefoot an appreciative pat.  
  
  
She gave him a brave smile, and stepped up onto the stair so the Riders could see their Queen. As the wind blew her hair and fluttered her graceful skirts she was an exquisite sight. "Be well, my husband, Eomer King, and all you Riders of the Mark." She said, loudly enough so all could hear. Her voice was strong, echoing none of the fear and pain she had for her husband's departure.  
  
  
"And you, Lothiriel, Queen of the Mark." Eomer replied, bowing his head slightly. He then turned, "To Gondor! To War!" He cried, giving the signal for their departure. He dared not turn to look upon the fair face of his wife again, for fear he would not have the strength to leave.  
  
  
Lothiriel understood, watching her husband ride away from the city. The green flags of Rohan fluttered in the wind as the Riders of Rohan departed across the grassy fields. She stood upon the stair of Meduseld, transfixed by the cloud of dust and graceful dance of their banners as the riders made their way. She watched, whispering a soft prayer upon the wind for their safe return, and hoped that soon she would see those very same banners flying high upon their return to Edoras, and her husband's return to her side.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A/N- All together now: "Awwww....." Aren't the cute folks? If only real guys were so sweet.... anyway! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of my Eomer/Lothiriel torture! And yeah, I know, not much happened did it! Those of you who know me, if usually takes a bit for my brain to start flowing... hang in there! I think I'll take the opportunity to let everyone know that I'm putting Lothiriel at about three months pregnant. I touched on it a little bit, but I didn't exactly give you any information on how far along she is. Of course, I have to be kind of mysterious as I've never been pregnant or around many pregnant people so I'm not an expert, and I left my wonderful human growth book at home since I'm not taking any development classes at the moment. Next trip home though I'll look up some stuff and make notes. Woohoo! Pointless research!  
  
BIG THANK YOU to my wonderful beta reader Kat :-) Kat is the best beta reader I've ever had... well actually Kat is the ONLY beta reader I've ever had but still! Kat, you rock! (bows to the greatness of the beta reader)  
  
Angelswing04- Thank you for reviewing and being so kind! Brownie points for you! I'm always on the lookout for new Eomer and Lothiriel stories too... so if you find any let me know! I really wish fanfiction.net would put Eomer in the character selection! Seriously! Rosie Cotton is in there now! COME ON!! Okay, had to get that in there... but anyway! Thank you for reviewing :-)  
  
Elentari-Taure- Hehe... I'll try to keep up the work :-) Thank you for saying it is great work... wow... that was really nice of you! What's in hobbit stew you ask? Hobbits of course! No... just kidding! I'd imagine taters (you know... po-ta-toes!), tomatoes, mushrooms, and of course NICE CRISPY BACON! Got to have bacon! Wow... now I'm hungry! Anyway, thanks for the review :-)  
  
Rohan-nitpick- Thanks, it's nice to be back! I like Those We Love better than Dust in the Wind too actually. Dust in the Wind I decided to do a more psychological story and try something different, and in my opinion, I failed miserably! I broke her and then couldn't fix her! Haha, I kind of over-looked that.... Serves me right for not planning ahead! This story I'm going to try to be better and not dig myself into holes, although I know I'll probably get stuck as usual. Thank you for reviewing, as always :-) I'm glad you're looking forward to more, and I hope I don't disappoint!  
  
Lady of Legolas- Happy to hear from you :-) Thanks for the review! And being the first one! I was excited! I don't really know why I hurt Imrahil... just because I guess! I was thinking about killing him but the Encyclopedia of Arda told me I couldn't. Besides I don't think I have the heart to kill Imrahil. He's too much fun! Thanks for the wonderful review!  
  
All the rest of you out there in fanfiction.net land! Review! I can see you! You aren't reviewing! I demand you review! Come on! Please??? I'll be your best friend! I'll tell you the meaning of life! As soon as I find it that is :-) PLEASE REVIEW!!!! 


	3. Chapter Three

It was early morning and the sun was just beginning to rise upon Edoras. Servants were beginning to stir, going about their daily tasks. Lothiriel had been up already for some time for although Eomer had left two weeks earlier, she still was not accustomed to sleeping alone. It was strange how large their bed seemed to have grown without his presence. Besides, she would much rather distract herself with matters of state than lie awake worrying about her husband. Every morning she would rise early and set to planning which tasks she would carry out, and to prepare herself for the day. She would also make a note of what had transpired the day before to be sent to her husband. She wanted to make certain it was clear that Eomer knew all that was taking place in Rohan while he was away. Although she was Queen she knew perfectly well that some still viewed her as a foreigner to the land, and she knew resentment might arise from being ruled by a foreign queen. Therefore she made certain that it was known that Eomer was King, and in control of the country, and that Lothiriel was merely acting on his behalf. Lothiriel smiled at the thought, she knew her husband most likely would pitch most of her detailed notes into a corner of the tent and never once give a thought to what he would call "trivial matters", but at least she made an effort.  
  
Lothiriel paused in her writing suddenly. Her swelling belly had given her a strange twinge. She placed a hand and felt it once more. The babe was kicking. She took a deep breath and whispered a quick prayer of thanks. She knew that the kicks were a sign of the child's health, and felt such relief that tears came to her eyes.  
  
Felarof, who had been resting at her feet, perked his ears, as if to question his mistress. Smiling, Lothiriel reached down to rub his soft golden ears. "Tis a good sign Felarof." She told the dog softly. "A good sign indeed."  
  
Her thoughts once again turned to Eomer and it pained her that he should miss this. He had been so concerned about her health and the child's when he had left, it seemed a shame he would not hear of this sign of the child's health for several weeks, even should she send a messenger right away. She of course, would do no such thing. A child in the womb kicking its mother was no great emergency, and while she knew Eomer would want to hear the news, she would not trouble him with it. He had been so pleased when their last child had begun to kick. He seemed fascinated that one who had not even drawn its first breath could make its presence known. However, for this child Eomer might miss the birth entirely. He may even miss the child's whole life should something happen to either once of them.  
  
Lothiriel quickly closed her eyes, banishing all such thoughts from her mind. She would not think of losing her husband or child. To Lothiriel it seemed if she did not entertain the thought that Eomer may die in battle, or the child may not come to term or die in infancy like her last son, that it would not come to pass. She merely chose to continue about her daily tasks, but she could not keep her thoughts at bay forever. Eventually, they came to her and she spent sleepless nights wrestling with her fears.  
  
Fortunately, a distraction appeared quickly this time. A soft knock came at her chamber door. Lothiriel quickly wiped her face of the tears she was not aware of shedding and composed herself, drawing a deep breath and straightening in her chair. "Yes?" She called, letting her visitor know they could enter.  
  
Her young personal maid, Hathawyn, entered with a cheerful smile, "Good morning my Lady." She greeted. Hathawyn had been with the household for almost two years now, and adored her Lady Queen. She was young, only about eighteen years of age, and was a dear friend. However, she made such a fuss over the Queen since finding out her Lady was with child, that Lothiriel often teased the girl that she was worse than her husband. "Do tell me you have not been awake long?"  
  
Lothiriel gave the maiden a knowing smile, "If I have will you fuss?" She asked, setting aside her work.  
  
"Of course I will." Over the past year Hathawyn had grown bold, enjoying her friendship with the Queen. She also was in dept to the Queen, for in her service Hathawyn had received an education that was rare for a woman of her status. Hathawyn was the daughter of a noble Rohirrim family that lived in the Eastfold. Her Father had sent her into service with the Queen and to live at the Rohirrim court until she married. The girl had known how to run a house, but she had never been taught to read or write. For it had not been deemed important for her to learn such things. Lothiriel had seen to it that the girl learnt, and in the past two years she had made significant progress. Hathawyn would often sit with the Queen and read to her, especially with Eomer away at war. With her new skills she had gained a great deal of confidence, which made her bolder than many would believe fitting for a handmaiden of the Queen to be, but Lothiriel enjoyed her company, and if anything, encouraged her to speak her mind.  
  
Lothiriel laughed, "The child is well Hathawyn. It has already begun to kick within me." She confided.  
  
Hathawyn grinned widely and clapped her hands with girlish excitement. "That is wonderful news my Lady!" She said. "I shall have your gowns let out more today. I believe you shall soon be needing it!"  
  
With a laugh Lothiriel placed her hand over her belly. "I am becoming unusually large, aren't I?"  
  
Hathawyn only smiled, "I would not know, my Lady." She said, choosing to remain safe and not comment. "Well, I came to see if you needed my assistance preparing for the morning, but you seemed to be quite in control of things, as usual."  
  
Lothiriel smiled, "Thank you Hathawyn. Now, I believe the Council is waiting for me?" She said, standing and quickly bringing order to her skirts.  
  
Hathawyn nodded, "Yes my Queen. I shall see the seamstress about your dresses. Have a good morning." She bobbed a quick curtsy and went about her chores.  
  
Lothiriel smiled, thanking her once more, and headed to the Hall to see about her morning tasks.  
  
The advisors were already bustling about, talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Lothiriel paused for a moment, watching them. From the urgency in their voices something important must have happened. She cleared her throat and made her way to the throne, bringing herself to full height and calling upon her years of training in decorum to look as noble as possible.  
  
"Good morning my Lords. I trust you found the morning agreeable?" She called in greeting, settling herself in her usual seat beside the throne. Eomer had told her it would be perfectly acceptable as acting ruler to sit in his throne, but Lothiriel could not bring herself to do so.  
  
They murmured their greetings, and waited politely for the Queen to ask them for their report, and allowing her to settle herself. Lothiriel looked over each of their faces, and found a great deal of worry in each one. Fear gripped her heart and her back stiffened. "What news?" She asked sharply.  
  
Leodmund stepped forward. It was typical that he would speak for the advisors. He had a way with words that privately amused Lothiriel. He reminded her much more of someone she would find in her Father's court, and she once told Eomer the man must have Gondorian blood somewhere, for no Rohirrim could speak with such flourish. Today however, he was quite frank for he felt it was not the time for lavish words. "My Queen, a messenger came earlier this morning from the Eastfold. Several villages have been struck with plague, and it is spreading. He reported entire villages are being wiped out. Those who survive flee to another village and the cycle starts once more. It strikes quickly. Those who show the first signs of disease are dead by nightfall. There have been over five hundred deaths reported so far and more die every day."  
  
Lothiriel licked her lips, her eyes widening as she listened. "And the messenger? Where was he met?"  
  
"He dared not approach the city my Queen. He told the Rider who approached him to not come within arms reach, for fear of contagion. Wise lad." He informed her.  
  
Lothiriel nodded, the fear that came with plague was half the problem. Panic would surely come if word came that a messenger from an infected village came through Edoras the entire city would erupt. "Has it spread to the Westfold?" She asked.  
  
"No word of any cases yet my Lady. However, with those who survive fleeing every which way, it is difficult to know for sure." Leodmund informed her. "What does the Queen command?" He asked, bowing slightly.  
  
Lothiriel paused, considering the matter. She found it very convenient that they were all suddenly silent. Normally they would be giving counsel whether she asked it or not. Their silence told her that they had considered the matter and were at a loss as to what to do.  
  
"Close the city gates. We must not allow plague to enter here. Send out an order advising against travel between villages to stop the spread of sickness." She ordered, trying to make her tone as commanding as possible. "Send extra riders to the Eastfold and guard the villages to keep the people from fleeing. They inadvertently compound the problem by panicking."   
  
"Are we to place our own people under guard?" Freathain, another advisor called out in shock.  
  
Lothiriel glanced around seeing many eyebrows raised. She raised her chin, meeting their gazes. "It is better to place them under guard than to see the plague spread my Lords." She said calmly. "We shall send supplies, never fear, but I will not see every village in Rohan in ruins because I allowed people to spread disease in panic."  
  
"Who shall take supplies? And how shall they return if we allow no entry to Edoras?" Freathain asked, still not convinced.  
  
Lothiriel glared at the man. She knew he was one of the men who questioned Eomer's decision to marry a foreign Princess, and she had never liked him, even though he was an old member of court and had been in position when Theoden had ruled Rohan, although Eomer pointed out that he had done little when Wormtongue was poisoning the mind of the King. "He shall leave the supplies outside the villages for a guard to retrieve. We shall work something out Freathain! What would you have me do?" She asked, unable to hide the sharpness in her tone.  
  
Freathain mumbled his apologizes and stepped back, clearly he had no ideas, and was simply content making trouble for the Queen.  
  
Leodmund made no attempt to hide the smirk on his face. Lothiriel always suspected he did not suffer Freathain either, and it amused her to see such intrigues. "My Queen, there is the matter of commerce." He pointed out quietly, as if not wanting to contradict or question her. His tone of voice was nowhere near as militant as Freathain's had been, and for that she was exceedingly grateful.  
  
"Yes, I know." She sighed softly. "Commerce can be re- established once the crisis is over. Have supplies brought into the city."  
  
"How long should we prepare for, my Queen?" He asked.  
  
"As far into the future as we can." Lothiriel said. "Plague is something that is difficult to predict. It could pass through Rohan quickly, leaving a trail of dead in its wake. Or it could be a long, extended illness, one cannot predict these things."  
  
Leodmund nodded, accepting her orders. "What of the King my Lady?"  
  
Lothiriel's brow furrowed. "What of him?"  
  
"It would be a risk to send messengers to Gondor. We do not know if the plague has spread there or not, and they may bring it back with them. Should we send messengers and not allow them to return-"  
  
"Their numbers will rise and soon there will be none left." Lothiriel finished for him. She sighed inwardly and drew herself up once more. "Very well, my Lords it appears we are on our own."  
  
"My Queen, we will have no way of receiving news from the front." Freathain pointed out.  
  
Lothiriel regarded him coolly. "My husband is a seasoned rider, Freathain. I have every confidence that he will manage himself quite adequately."  
  
Freathain turned a deep shade of red. "It was not my intent to question the King's skills, my Queen."  
  
Lothiriel regarded him calmly, it was all she could do to keep from laughing at his flushed appearance. "See that you do not." She managed to say with a warning tone, keeping the laughter out of her voice. "Now, what else?"  
  
"My Queen, there is also the matter of the drought." Leodmund stepped in once again, watching Frethain step back to stand among the others.  
  
"Drought?" Lothiriel raised an eyebrow. Dol Amroth was a sea city, and Lothiriel was not accustomed to the drier seasons, nor was she very aware of the problems a drought could bring to her kingdom.  
  
"As you know, we have not had rain in the Westfold for the past month. Some villages are having difficulties with their crops and watering their livestock." He reminded her. "They have been sending people to find water elsewhere. However, should we advise against travel they will not be able to bring water into their villages."  
  
Lothiriel sighed, closing her eyes a moment. It was a quite difficult situation and she was uncertain of how to remedy it. "I suppose we will have to find a way to deliver water to these villages. Can they ration the water supplies?"  
  
They all pondered this a moment, then Leodmund spoke again, "They can only water minimum crops and livestock I suppose. Perhaps we can send some of their animals to other villages for a time?"  
  
Lothiriel nodded, "See what can be done." She then looked at their long faces and sighed once more. "All right, so far this morning their has been plague in the Eastfold, and drought in the Westfold, does anyone have any good news to share?"  
  
Several of the men chuckled, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. Leodmund smiled, "I'm afraid not my Queen. Shall I have these orders drawn up for your signature?" He asked.  
  
"Yes, if you will." She said. Leodmund bowed and quickly made his exit to draw up the orders. "Is that all for now my Lords?" She asked, looking over the advisors.  
  
They all nodded, exchanging glances, "Yes my Queen."  
  
Lothiriel nodded, "Very well then." She turned her attention to the guard at the door. "I suppose there are some citizens waiting for an audience?"  
  
He bowed low, "Yes my Queen." He answered.  
  
"Very well. Let the first in." She ordered, she then turned back to the advisors. "My Lords, it has been a pressing morning, I am sure these grievances are nothing urgent. You may go if you would like. I am sure you would all like to see that all your homes are safe and to make preparation for the weeks to come."  
  
They all bowed their heads to the Queen in thanks, and quickly made their exits, leaving the Queen alone with her guards to deal with the often trivial matters that came in the later morning. Lothiriel sighed once again, rubbing her head for it ached with worry. She certainly hoped that the day would not bring any more troubles; for she felt her head might actually collapse under any more pressure. The babe growing within her kicked once more, making its presence known. Lothiriel rested a hand on her belly once again. "I know little one." She said softly to the babe. She looked up and across the Hall to the doors, watching them open to catch a glimpse of the city and the mountains surrounding them, as if to draw strength from their sturdy presence. She rubbed her belly once again, as if her motions would calm and comfort the child within. "It has been a trying morning." She whispered. "Let us hope these troubles will soon be gone."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A/N: Look! I finally posted! Sorry about the long wait guys... well actually... it's only been what? Three weeks? Hehe... anyway! Sorry about that! I'll try to get the next one up quicker! This time there won't be a hurricane in the way... hopefully. Hehe! Anyway, looks like Lothiriel's got her hands full eh? I'm throwing two problems at her before lunch! All will be revealed in time!  
  
Big fat thank you to my beta reader Kat! She takes care of all my lazy mistakes! And she also puts up with my idea bouncing! Wohoo for Kat! (stands up a cheers)  
  
Angelswing04: Don't torture too much? Can't promise anything! If I didn't have them to torture who would I? Hehe! Thanks for the review!  
  
Annatari: Hm... a decent argument... there's an idea... of course, I don't think I could get that in this story... seeing as Eomer way off in Gondor... but next time! Hehe! Thanks for the review! And by the way, when are you updating your story? You should update! Look! I updated! That means you have to too! It's law (nods seriously). :-)  
  
Lady of Imladris: Well, actually I think I just emailed you... but you still get a shout out. (Stands up and shouts). It's always great to hear from you! Your hobbit stew was in the mail... but I think my roommate ate it. She does that. Anyway... here's the chapter! So now you can't kill me! Hehe!  
  
Rohan-nitpick: Yes, I know, that last chapter was kind of pointless. But I thought it was cute. Cute? Oh freak... my roommate's rubbing off on my again... I better go watch something that doesn't involve some cute little love story about a misfit girl and a boy getting together and blah blah blah the end. Anyway, I'm trying to get to the good stuff! I really am! Hehe! Thanks for reviewing :-)  
  
All you reviewers rock! I love you all! Seriously, Eomer clones all around! As soon as I can get my roommate OFF them. She's quite fond of them all and is not willingly to let me send them to you guys... (pokes roommate) so attack her! Mwahaha!  
  
Go on! Review! I dare you! If you don't review your eyes will turn purple and fall out of your head. Yep. That's what will happen. However, if you DO review you MAY get seven years good luck (hey... it could happen!). So what do you have to lose? Review! 


	4. Chapter Four

Eomer was starting to develop a deep hatred for Osgilith. Every moment he spent there he found the ruins more and more wretched. Having beaten the enemy back across the river over a month ago they had retaken the western shore of the river and city. However, the orcs had fortified the eastern shore, making it all but impenetrable, which meant all the two sides could really do was sit on their sides of the river and shoot back and forth. It irritated Eomer immensely, who would much rather jump on Firefoot and storm the barricades than to sit still playing siege. However, as Elessar had pointed out, there was the small matter of the river that split the battle. The only remaining bridge was narrow, and would basically be a death trap for any to ride across, and so Eomer and his riders were feeling rather useless at the moment, and nothing irritated Eomer more than feeling useless. At the moment he was pacing back and forth within the ruined building where they made camp. The leaders were once again conferring a plan of action, and Eomer was displeased to discover Aragorn and Faramir were planning different ways to arrange the men and catapults to fire across the river. He knew it would be foolish to voice his annoyance, and being a rider and not an expert on catapults and calculations and knowing such he had decided to pace until the conversation turned to something he preferred. Eomer had a sneaking suspicion that he might be pacing yet awhile.  
  
Faramir looked up to see his wife's brother making yet another trip from one wall to the next. He raised an eyebrow amused. "Eomer, you are making a considerable track in the floor. Do you fear you will become lost from one side of the room to the other?"  
  
Eomer stopped his pace to glare, "This is the most physical activity I have had in days it seems. I must do something with myself!" He exclaimed, half jokingly, half serious.  
  
"Yes well, if you could find something else?" Aragorn asked, "Your pacing is making my head spin."  
  
Eomer threw up his hands and went to join them at the table. "Anything for your health gentlemen." He jokingly bowed slightly.  
  
Aragorn and Faramir chuckled. "Well, you may pace all you like in your own quarters, my friend. I know you have good reason." Aragorn assured him.  
  
"Any word from Lothiriel?" Faramir inquired.  
  
Eomer sighed, it had been nearly two months since he left Edoras, and no news had reached him from his wife or anyone in the city for that matter. Erkenbrand, who presently resided in the Eastfold, had told him word had reached him from his wife that all was quiet, yet no news from Edoras had reached him either. All these events worried Eomer greatly. It was simply not like Lothiriel to not send word. However, he was in a city under seige, so it could merely be that for some odd coincidence that messengers from Edoras had not been able to get through as well from there or from the Eastfold, or even Minas Tirith, where the Lady Arwen seemed to send word weekly to Aragorn. Or, Eomer thought with a laugh, it could be that Lothiriel knew very well Eomer would probably end up pitching whatever news she sent pertaining to managing the Mark into a corner never to be read, and being with child, and ruling the Mark, she did not have the energy to waste. However, he still worried, and would like to know how she faired at least.  
  
"No word." He replied. "I hope all is well in the Riddermark."  
  
"Perhaps no word is good word." Faramir attempted to comfort. "Surely news would reach you if some disaster had befallen her."  
  
Eomer glared at his sister's husband, and reminded himself that if he harmed Faramir, Eowyn would surely come after him, and she was not one he would like to deal with. "What?"  
  
"Not that a disaster will befall her!" Faramir quickly attempted to save himself after Eomer's glare. "I am sure Lothiriel will be perfectly fine."  
  
Aragorn cleared his throat, even though he would be amused to see Eomer chase Faramir around Osgilith he rather hoped to get through this meeting. "I received word from Minas Tirith that Prince Imrahil will be arriving in Osgilith soon. Apparently he has had all the healing he can stand and was threatening to drop a healer off the balcony if they refused to allow him permission to depart any longer. Perhaps word from Edoras reached him in Minas Tirith instead. He is her Father and Minas Tirith is a more secure location after all." He pointed out.  
  
"Perhaps." Eomer said, accepting Aragorn's attempt at reassurance. "Nevertheless, my Lord Aragorn, I would appreciate if we could soon draw a close to this conflict. My wife is with child, and I would rather like to see him or her before they are old enough to knock their father off his feet."  
  
Aragorn laughed, and was about to reply to this comment, when a new voice entered the scene.  
  
"What? My sister is carrying another child of yours?" The all looked to see Erchirion, second son of Prince Imrahil, standing in the "doorway" of the ruin, looking rather smug that he managed to surprise the group.  
  
"Ah! Erchirion, we did not hear news of your arrival." Aragorn greeted the man. "How fares your Father?"  
  
"Well, sire." Erchirion replied, with a bow to his King. "He should be here shortly. If you will excuse me sire, I would like to settle family business." Erchirion said with a wicked grin, turning to Eomer.  
  
The King of the Mark was never quite sure what to expect from Erchirion. His wife's older brother was unpredictable at times. Many a time Eomer had found himself on the wrong end of Erchirion's fist, but he judged Erchirion to be a pleasant enough man who was merely overprotective of his sister. Eomer would even venture to say he enjoyed Erchirion's company at times, time when he was not dodging his fist of course.  
  
"So! My sister is in a delicate condition, and no news was sent to my brothers, our Father, or myself. What have you to say for yourself?" Erchirion asked, fighting a grin and crossing his arms. He was in an oddly good mood that day, and decided torturing the poor King of the Mark would be amusing.  
  
"Twas my wife's bidding of course." Eomer sensed the man's good humor and grinned sheepishly. "I have nothing but pride for my wife, my Lord. She is indeed the finest thing that ever hailed from Dol Amroth and stepped upon Rohirrim soil, and our little child shall be a proud Prince or Princess of the Mark." He bowed low. "Punish me as you will."  
  
"Well said, my daughter's husband." Imrahil, who had appeared as his son stated Lothiriel's condition. He immediately understood his daughter's decision to keep her condition quiet for a while, in case she lost the child. His wife had done the same with all four of their children and he hoped that Erchirion would not hold a grudge.  
  
"Uncle, I hope you are well." Faramir greeted. "The healers-"  
  
"Are worse than a flock of vultures!" Imrahil declared, finishing the younger man's sentence with a scowl. "They would not have released me had I not threatened to shove the next bowl of broth down their throats."  
  
"He did too." Erchirion chimed in. "My King, you shall have some very unhappy healers waiting upon your return to Minas Tirith."  
  
Aragorn laughed, "Nevertheless, it is good to see you. The forces of Dol Amroth are most welcome here."  
  
Imrahil bowed to his King. "My men are ever at your disposal, my liege."  
  
Aragorn nodded, "Now come gentlemen! Let us discuss the matter at hand!"  
  
The conversation went back to battle plans. Although Eomer had stopped his pacing his mind continued to wander back to the grassy fields of the Mark. He wondered what was happening in his country, and how Lothiriel was faring at this moment.  
  
  
* * * *  
  
Across the mountains in the Mark a man stood alone in a field outside Edoras. He was just out of sight of the city and wore a cloak of dark green with his hood drawn. He waited patiently, the wind whipping past and blowing the folds of his cloak to and fro. A rider approached, and the man watched with narrowed eyes as his companion dismounted and quickly closed the distance between them.  
  
"How goes it?" The cloaked man asked sharply, with no time for niceties or greetings.  
  
"Very well my Lord." The rider replied. "No news of Edoras has leaked to the rest of the country, and my men are in position in Gondor."  
  
The cloaked man nodded, "Will they be ready?"  
  
"Of course my Lord. When the time comes, they shall see to the King as planned." The rider replied. He then hesitated, "My Lord, do you not worry about re-admittance to the city?" The rider asked.  
  
The cloaked man waved off his concerns, "My men guard the gates. I will slip in and out unhindered, and none will hear of it. I have everything set for when the time comes, my friend."  
  
The rider nodded, accepting his answer. "And what of the Queen, my Lord?"  
  
The cloaked man raised his chin, a smug look crossing his face. "The Queen believes whatever information is fed to her." He laughed, however it was not a kind tone. It was more of a harsh, bark of a laugh, laced with bitterness. "She knows little of our land or its ways. She is not hard to deceive."  
  
The rider shifted on his feet, watching his companion. "And when the time comes, what if she gives us difficulties?" He asked. "It could be dangerous."  
  
The man laughed once more, "She is a woman. What difficulties could she possibly bring?" He asked. "Nay my friend. Everything is proceeding as scheduled." A cold smile spread across his lips, a cold scheming smile. "We need only wait for the opportune moment to strike."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A/N- This is my attempt at being mysterious. Heh. Not much to say at the moment, except don't hold your breath for the next chapter because the furthest I've gotten on it is thinking about what happens while driving across the state. Hope you enjoyed this one! Big thanks to my wonderful beta reader :-)  
  
Lady of Legolas- Hehe and what makes you so sure Eomer will return? You know, besides what the book says? Hehe! I'm playing with your mind... mwahahahaha! Sorry... lack of sleep. Anyway, thanks for the reviews! I'll let the advisors know you said not to pick on Lothiriel, but they don't listen to me. Stupid characters! Thanks for reviewing :-)  
  
Heyoka- Thank you for reviewing. All I can tell you is wait and see where I'm really going. I haven't really shown my hand yet :-) As you probably made the intelligent guess... Lothiriel isn't exactly being given the truth from certain people who shall remain nameless. Okay, so I'm not good at the mysterious thing so you'll probably be able to guess who, but all is not well in the Riddermark :-) Or... it won't be when I FINALLY get around to writing more. Thanks for the helpful review! I actually got it right after I was going over the chapter thinking I laid it on too thick and Lothiriel may look stupid by the end. Well, she can blame it on hormones.... like I blame things on the blonde hair.... Anyway! Have a great day and thank you so much for reviewing! Hope you'll review again :-)  
  
Thanks to you two for reviewing! You both get the gold stars for the day.  
  
YO!!! YOU!! YOU PERSON WHO IS READING THIS RIGHT NOW! REVIEW!! NOW!! Sorry, angry Bean surfaced there. But happy Bean says the same thing in a much nicer way! Please review! I'd really like to hear from you! Thanks! Happy reading! 


	5. Chapter Five

Three months had passed since the King had left Edoras and the summer heat had hit the city like never before. None could recall the air ever being so thick and warm. The usual cool wind that stormed through the city now bought in waves of thick dust and heat. Animals where dying from heat and thirst, and some people, mostly elderly had died as well. Children who usually ran about on warm summer days had become lethargic, and none could work long in the heat.  
  
It was late in the afternoon when Hathawyn returned to Meduseld from her errand for the Queen. She had been acquiring herbs from Mirdra the mid- wife for Lothiriel, and since the weather was so miserable Hathawyn refused to allow her Lady to walk so far. She hated her heavy dress at the moment and was very much in need of a drink. She nodded politely to the guards at the doors, who allowed her to pass without question. Hathawyn suddenly felt a great deal of sympathy for these men, who must be buried alive under all that armor. She paused a moment studying the two. "May I bring you some water perhaps? You must be thirsty."  
  
One of them turned to look at her, his face was covered with sweat under his helmet but he smiled kindly. "My thanks, but our watch shall soon be over. We have lesser shifts under this sun than normal, to keep us well."  
  
Hathawyn nodded, "Well, should you need anything." She said softly, gathering up her skirts and pushing open the heavy door to the Golden Hall.  
  
She quickly crossed to one of the passages that lead to her Lady's apartments when she noticed two men standing in a corner of the Golden Hall, whispering. She hid herself in the shadows and paused a moment to watch them. She could not see their faces, but they were whispering with great urgency, and seemed to be watchful, making sure they were alone. It was curious that they were so heavily cloaked, for the Hall was quite warm and most were attempting to wear as light and cool clothing as propriety would allow. She moved closer, attempting to see their faces, when one of the men looked up, seeing Hathawyn. She did not recognize the man, but she did not chance to see his companion, for as soon as she knew she had been observed she quickly turned and headed on her way, trying to make it seem as if she had not been watching them. She quickly went to the Queen's chambers and knocked sharply.  
  
"Who is there?" Lothiriel called from within.  
  
"It is Hathawyn, my Lady!" She replied, nervously glancing over her shoulder to see if the man followed her.  
  
"Oh! Come Hathawyn, quickly!"  
  
Hathawyn did just that, quickly pulling the door shut behind her. She found her Queen dressed merely in her shift, her heavy dress lay disregarded on a chair. "My Queen?" Hathawyn raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Oh! I know it is most improper of me." Lothiriel smiled. "But it is so hot, and I am already most uncomfortable and feeling terribly fat. I was suffocating under there." She said, pointing to the dress, giving it an accusing glare. "I decided since it was only myself, and perhaps you, who has assisted dressing me many times, that there was no call for ceremony." She laughed, placing a hand on her rounded belly, which seemed even larger to Hathawyn in only the thin white shift. "The little one agrees also." She then noticed Hathawyn's worried expression and motioned for her to sit down. "Does something trouble you Hathawyn?"  
  
Hathawyn set her bundle on a table and lowered herself into the chair. A curious expression crossed her face, as if she were trying to calculate something. "My Lady, I noticed two men in the Golden Hall whispering together, as if sharing a great secret. One, I did not recognize, and the other I saw not his face. It concerned me the urgency they seemed to whisper, my Lady."  
  
Lothiriel studied the girl a moment before replying. She seemed to lower her voice, as if afraid of being over heard, and beckoned her closer. "I shall confide in you Hathawyn, I fear something is amiss here in Meduseld." Hathawyn, now kneeling beside her Queen's chair, stared at her, eyes widening. "What do you mean, my Lady?"  
  
"This plague. Does it not seem odd to you that none now mention it, and when brought up, they seem to mutter excuses and change the subject. It is as if something is being hidden from me, and I do not find complete truths in all the advisors say." Lothiriel sighed, leaning her head back against the stone of the wall behind her. "Something is not right, I can sense it."  
  
Hathawyn brow furrowed, she was young and trusting, but she was loyal to her Queen, and should anyone try to harm her Lady she would not stand for it. She bowed her head low, trying to think of eloquent words to give her oath. "My Queen, should any try to harm you, I would give my life to protect you." She vowed, stumbling over words, her voice tight with emotion.  
  
Lothiriel looked down at the young woman, surprised by her fierce loyalty. "I believe you would Hathawyn." She said earnestly. "But let us hope it does not come to that." She gave her a brave smile. "Perhaps I am just over reacting with my suspicions, but keep an sharp eye and open ear, and report anything strange to me, and none other, just as a precaution."  
  
Hathawyn nodded, getting to her feet. "Yes my Lady." She then retrieved her bundle, her eyes suddenly sparkling like an excited young girl. "I have something for your babe, my Lady. A gift I finished last night." She handed a small package to Lothiriel, grinning. She was planning on giving it to her after the babe was born, but she had sensed that her Queen's dark mood had been getting worse all week, and hoped to lighten the heavy worries by giving her gift. It was a simple of gesture of kindness, but one that would be appreciated nonetheless.  
  
"Hathawyn, you should not have troubled-" But Lothiriel did not complete her sentence, she had pulled forth a warm green blanket, about half sized, with a white horse dancing in the center. "Hathawyn, this is beautiful." Hathawyn grinned peering over Lothiriel's shoulder. "Look closely at the horse, my Lady."  
  
Lothiriel did so and her eyes widened in surprise. "This is not white! It is pale blue! The same as my old dress." She looked at the girl in wonder.  
  
"The one you ripped beyond repair not long ago. You told me it was old, from when you were younger at Dol Amroth. It had been your mother's and you were grieved to be rid of it, so you kept it even through you could not wear it again. I hope you do not mind that I took a small portion for the blanket." Hathawyn explained, blushing slightly at the high praise of the Queen.  
  
Lothiriel smiled, "Oh it is quite all right. It is wonderful. Does the green have a story as well?"  
  
"When I saw you were making the King a new cloak, I took some cloth from the old. It was worn and stained at the edges, but I managed to find a good piece for the blanket." Hathawyn said.  
  
"The child then will have a piece of their mother and father." Lothiriel said softly, touching the blue horse gingerly. Dol Amroth seemed so far away, like a distant memory, and yet, at this moment it seemed closer than ever. Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at the beautiful work done on the gift and her fingers drifted to the green from her husband's cloak and she held to her cheek as if to feel closer to him by doing so. "It is perfect." She whispered. "I give my thanks, on behalf of my husband as well. I am sure he will be grateful for such a fine gift as well."  
  
Hathawyn bowed gracefully. She then met the tear filled eyes of her Queen and with a small pause, considering the boldness of her question, but going ahead. "You miss him terribly do you not?"  
  
Lothiriel's face crumpled, and tears ran down her cheeks. "More than I ever thought possible." She whispered.  
  
Hathawyn took her Lady's hands in her own, grasping them tightly. "He shall return soon, my Lady." She said, distraught that her gift had upset the Queen so.  
  
Lothiriel returned the grip, attempting to calm herself, if only for Hathawyn's sake. She could tell the poor girl thought her gift was the cause of the Queen's distress. In truth Lothiriel suspected it was the mixture of worry as well as the heat and the child growing within her. "I pray you are correct, Hathawyn." She smiled kindly. "My thanks for the gift. You picked a wonderful time to give it to me, truly my friend."  
  
Hathawyn smiled, "I also brought some herbs from Mirdra. She said you are to get plenty of rest and drink this concoction of hers."  
  
Lothiriel made a face. "I remember that concoction. The taste is terrible."  
  
Hathawyn laughed, "I shall prepare it, in the mean time, you must promise me you will rest."  
  
"Very well." Lothiriel replied. She had been feeling rather tired, perhaps some sleep would be a good idea.  
  
Satisfied with her Queen's response, Hathawyn left the room, closing the door behind her. Lothiriel got to her feet, and went to her bed. It was far too warm for the coverings, so Lothiriel merely stretched out on top of them, resting her head against the fine pillows. She sighed, closing her eyes, attempting to quiet her thoughts. This task was proving difficult. Her head spun with thoughts. Thoughts of what could be happening among the advisors, thoughts of her husband on a battlefield far away. There had been no word from him, even if he had sent word the messenger would have been turned away, but she had been told none had arrived. It seemed odd to her that Eomer would not send some word, if nothing else but to tell her of his health or her father's or some news from the battle. Of course, she had sent no messengers either. She could not with plague in the country. Suddenly, the thought came to her. What if the plague was only a story told to prevent her from communicating with Eomer? What if someone wanted her isolated here in Edoras? But why? And who?  
  
Lothiriel pondered for a moment and then quickly came to a decision. She must send word to Eomer right away to show whoever was plotting that their scheme would not work. She knew it was risky, if she were wrong she could inadvertently aid the spread of the plague. However, she also strongly felt something was wrong, and she knew she had to trust her instincts. The messenger would have to be one she knew, and one who was loyal to her husband above all else. She immediately had one in mind and quickly pulled on her dress once more, checking her appearance in the mirror to make sure she was presentable, and hastily left before she changed her mind.  
  
She soon found a guard in the Hall and called out to him.  
  
He bowed low, "My Queen, how may I serve you?"  
  
"Please bring the messenger Eothain to me at once." She ordered, he bowed and quickly left. Lothiriel made her way to her chair beside Eomer's throne, not wishing to stand the entire time she waited for Eothain to arrive.  
  
Leodmund appeared, and glanced up surprised to see the Queen. "My Queen? How fare you?"  
  
"Well. Thank you for inquiring." She replied. "What brings you to the Golden Hall at this time of day, Leodmund?" She asked, curiously.  
  
"Ah. A small matter of mine own accord my Lady. No matter of real importance, but one I would rather like to have taken care of." He replied, brushing her question aside quickly with his usual kind smile.  
  
Lothiriel nodded, and was about to reply when a guard announced young Eothain's arrival. The young man bowed to the Queen respectfully before coming forward. "Ah. Eothain, good of you to come so quickly." She greeted him.  
  
"I shall always come at your summons, Lothiriel Queen." He answered. "How may I serve the Mark?"  
  
Lothiriel held the papers out to him, beckoning him forward to take them rather than attempted to rise herself. She had found it increasingly difficult to rise with ease as the child grew within her and found it easier to stay seated. "You shall take these to my husband in Osgilith." She ordered.  
  
Leodmund looked alarmed. "But my Lady! I must protest! The plague! Surely you would not risk spreading it further!"  
  
Lothiriel gave him a sharp look. "I insist that my husband be informed of the happenings within his realm." She told him.  
  
"But my Lady-" Leodmund started, only to be cut off.  
  
"I am Queen. And my decision is final." She said firmly.  
  
Leodmund bowed his head, "Yes my Queen." He said. "Forgive me, it is not my place to question your orders."  
  
Lothiriel nodded her forgiveness. "Eothain, please leave as soon as you can. This is most urgent." She told the boy, who looked a bit worried by the reaction of Leodmund.  
  
He bowed again, "I will my Lady." He promised. He then turned on his heels to prepare for his journey.  
  
Lothiriel watched him go quietly, she felt as if all her hopes were going with him.  
  
"Do you believe he will actually reach the King?" Leodmund asked, softly.  
  
Lothiriel held back a sigh, her eyes still watching as Eothain left the Golden Hall. "Let us hope so." She said. "Let us all hope so."  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * *   
Eothain had been traveling for a whole day and was growing weary. He knew he would have to stop soon and rest, but this message appeared very important to the Queen, and he hated to fail her. He could ride a bit longer, while there was still some light. Suddenly, his horse stopped and refused to take another step. This was odd behavior displayed by the creature and he urged him to continue in some frustration, knowing that he was pushing the creature, but his horse had been on far more difficult runs.  
  
"What is it friend?" He asked softly, scanning his surroundings for a possible disturbance. He never saw the arrow coming, it hit him in the back before he realized what it was. He gasped with sharp pain as his horse neighed in protest as his rider fell from the saddle. Eothain fought to keep his eyes open, darkness was fast closing upon him, he pushed himself to his knees, only to see the boots of someone approach. He lifted his head to meet the eyes of his attacker, to die with the honor of his fathers. Two men were standing in front of him, one with weapon drawn, and the other older man stood cloaked in the shadows. The second man lifted his hood to stare down at Eothain, a smirk clearly visible. Eothain's eyes widened in shock as he gazed open the older man. "You!" He stammered, then the knife fell, and Eothain gave in to darkness.  
  
Without much concern, the older man stepped towards the killer with a smile. "Well done. Now, the time has come." He drew a sword and handed it to his companion. "See that the you deliver this to the King at the opportune moment."  
  
Accepting the sword, the younger man bowed, and disappeared into the night, leaving the old man alone. Slowly, a sinister smile spread across his lips. Things were going exactly as he predicted. Soon, the throne of the Mark would be in his hands.   
* * * * * * * * * * *   
Firefoot stamped impatiently and Eomer suppressed a snicker. His wife was right; he and his horse were far too alike. After what seemed like a lifetime of holding the western shore of the city they were finally going to attack and rid Osgilith of evil once and for all. How long had it been since he had seen his wife and Edoras? Four months? It could not have been such a long time! He paused for a moment, calculating the days, yes, it would be four months, if not a bit more. He had almost lost track of time. It seemed a ridiculous amount of time to be away of course, but he supposed it was necessary to protect his kingdom. However, Eomer wanted nothing more than to turn Firefoot and go home to his wife. She must be getting quite large by now, he thought with a grin. Large and irritable, this thought caused Eomer to frown, perhaps he did not want to rush home so soon after all. Of course, that was not true, but Eomer recalled Lothiriel's last pregnancy as a time where the King often found objects being thrown at his head and many insults, both in Gondorian and Rohirric being muttered by his wife.  
  
Eomer shook his head, it was no matter for soon the final battle would be over and he would immediately head for home. He had no real reason to stay in Gondor for any longer than necessary. Oh, he had told Faramir he would come and visit his sister, but seeing as the war was taking longer than expected and Lothiriel most likely soon be having the child, he was sure Eowyn would understand.  
  
Eomer sighed, what could possibly be taking so long? It was a dark night, but a clear one. He was confident that the horses would be able to charge by the moonlight. If the signal was ever lit that is. He quickly went through the plan in his mind, making sure he had not forgotten some detail that would explain this delay. Erchirion and Imrahil were taking ships and landing them in darkness on the banks of the city, attacking from the central banks accompanied by men lead by Aragorn. Faramir was leading another force and when the ships landed and the orcs were occupied with Aragorn and the Knights of Dol Amroth, Faramir would lead his men across the south bridge and attack from there, allowing Eomer and his riders to cross the northern bridge and charge, finishing them off. It was a good plan. There was just one problem. Where was the signal?  
  
Eomer drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword, impatiently, while his horse snorted and stamped. "We best not let Lothiriel see us like this old friend." He muttered to his horse with a grin. Suddenly, a horn blast rang through the air, followed by loud tumultuous cries of chaos from within the center of the city and fires lit along the river shores. This was it. Eomer drew his sword and raised it high. "For home men! Forth Eorlingas!" He cried out in a booming voice that echoed across the stone of the city.  
  
The men rallied, and the sound of hooves on the stone bridge filled the air, deafening any who heard it. It was like a roar, a thunder shaking the very foundations of the city. Like so many battles before, Eomer was thrown into the vicious rhythm of war, never knowing just how many he killed, or exactly how. It was a euphoria that kept a soldier sane. Those who could not reach this state would have images of death and destruction burned into their minds forever. It was over soon, almost as soon as it began. The orcs, the few that were left, retreated into the hills, pursued by numbers from all ranks of men.  
  
Eomer met Aragorn, Imrahil, and Faramir in the center of the remains of the battle. "Well met my friends." He greeted.  
  
They all exchanged greetings and relief to see one another unharmed, before setting to the grisly task of stating their losses. The battle had been won, but there were always men lost. Fortunately, the day had been theirs, and the causalities were not too great. Eomer always felt a great deal of responsibility towards his men, as they all did, and so after exchanging a few words, he set out to sort the wounded from the dead along with the rest of his riders who had not pursued the orcs out of the city.  
  
He paid no mind to the fact that he was soon alone down a dark narrow alley of the city. He had heard someone moaning in passing and had gone to investigate, as usual he did not pay heed to the risks of going about this task alone. Eomer often forgot that as King he had to be more cautious than he had in the past, even after several years on the throne.  
  
He found the rider lying alone, groaning, his back to him, clutching his chest as if he had been shot by an arrow. Eomer knelt beside the man, recognizing him as a rider often used to run messages between Minas Tirith and Edoras. Having normally relied on young Eothain for important messages he regretted he did not know this man's name, feeling sympathy towards him as he did with any of his wounded. "Rest easy friend, we shall find you a healer." He assured the man.  
  
He was not prepared when the man rolled over suddenly. Quick as a flash the rider's hand had gone to his sword, and before Eomer even had a chance to comprehend what was happened, he felt a sharp pain in his gut. He looked down, shocked to see that he had been stabbed, almost run through with a sword.  
  
Eomer was still in shock as he fell back, he thought of Lothiriel, seeing her as she looked on their wedding day, Lothiriel holding the child he would never see. If a boy, the child would be King before he was even born. His mind then turned to the memory of his own parents. His father, killed in battle and his mother wasting away with grief. His last hopes were for Lothiriel, as he prayed she would take strength and not suffer as his mother did. His world went black and his mind blissfully blank, and Eomer thought no more.  
  
The attacker came to his feet, removing his sword from the King with a cruel smirk. He then found the body of the orc he had killed earlier, placing a long knife in the dead monster's hand and laying it closer to the King's body. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and knelt beside the King. His expression changing from one of a triumph to concern as three riders from the King's own company approached. They stared at the body of Eomer in shock and turned to the man with questions in their eyes.  
  
The man removed Eomer's helmet, his eyes glittering with tears. "I shall ride to Edoras immediately and bring word." He announced. "The King is dead."   
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A/N: Mwahahahaha! Death to all!!!! Is Eomer really dead you may ask? Well, I'm not telling right now :-P You will just have to wait and see! Hopefully I won't keep you waiting as long as I did with this chapter! Methinks this is a record for the longest pause between posts for me! Wow! Sorry you guys, and thanks for being patient!  
  
Many much thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! It's been so long I've forgotten if anyone did... but if you did gold star for you!  
  
Also many much thanks to my wonderful beta-reader for fixing all my mistakes because I'm too lazy to carefully proofread myself.... I wish I could have her read my research papers too! Hehe! :-)  
  
Please review! And remind me to not take so long with the next chapter! Happy New Year everyone! 


End file.
